J O L T
by spirithamburger
Summary: THIS was electricity. THIS was a jolt. [Roxas, Aerith, Roxith, promthemed fic for InspireIlluminates contest.]
1. Chapter 1

-exhales heavily- Here it is at last. My magnum opus. My masterpiece. Well, y'know, so far.

Heh, this is my Roxith prom-fic for Inspire-Illuminate's contest, which ends...tomorrow, I believe. Talk about cutting it close, ne? Well, it took me this long to get it all done. It's crazy-long, so I chopped it up into two bits. But I like it, to be perfectly honest. I REALLY like it. XD Hey, I've gotta feed my Roxith addiction, ne?

Well, hope you all enjoy it. :)

**Disclaimer: I own naught.**

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Prom. Dictionary definition: a ball or formal dance, held for a high-school or college class.

Prom. Regular definition: the last dance before college and growing up, to get drunk, lucky or just to have fun with your friends and your favorite girl/boy.

Prom. Roxas definition: a chance to reinvent the term 'wallflower' and alternately watch your ex make out with your cousin, and your best friend make out with your…sister.

Sick.

_Look on the bright side._ Roxas chastised himself mildly, absently swirling the bright pink punch in his plastic glass and trying not to stare at his friend Axel exchanging saliva with his older sister, Larxene. _Someday you'll look back on this night and think how nice the wallpaper in the corner was. Clean and white with a slight pink __pattern…or is that just from the punch Tidus threw at the wall when Selphie ditched him for Leon?_

Scowling vaguely at the wall, Roxas admitted silently that there was no way the stain was getting out without bleach (unfortunately for the school maintenance workers). Then he glanced down at the glass of the drink he held in his hand and realized that if the punch had that effect on the wallpaper, it must be doing horrors to his stomach lining.

"Ug." The young blond muttered, quickly dropping the cup into a nearby garbage can and wiping his hands on the pants of his tuxedo. Roxas hadn't particularly _wanted_ to wear a tuxedo, but Axel had insisted that such things were required at prom and he'd be violently shunned if he showed up in anything else. So, amid mumbled complaints and some first-class whining, the sixteen-year-old had allowed himself to be dragged all over the downtown mall until he was the epitome of casually chic clothing. Axel had approved, saying that there was no way he'd be rejected in such a suitably penguin-like ensemble.

And yet, here Roxas was, in a coat, pants, nice shirt and even a TIE and he was almost certain it was impossible for him to be ignored more than he was. Even his equally penguinish friend had ditched him in favor of dancing to the dulcet sounds of Justin Timberlake, arm-in-arm with Miss Larxene, voted Most-Likely-To-Disembowel-Somebody-Before-Graduating. Watching his all-angles, icy-eyed sister boogie shamelessly with his red-headed friend, Roxas couldn't stifle a wince. He'd really hoped Axel would break up with his older sibling before prom, because as embarrassing as it was to have a big sister who was the city's resident feminist hag, it was even worse to have her DATING his best friend.

_But then, who am I to interfere with __true love?_ Roxas silently questioned the punch bowl as Mr. Timberlake stopped wailing and the lights went down amid some far less earsplitting melodies. A wry half-smile found it's way across the golden-haired wallflower's face, underscored by the aching feeling somewhere in the left part of his chest. He knew this song, far better than he'd ever wanted to. 'I'll Be', by Edwin McCain. It had been his and his ex-girlfriend's special song, the one they'd danced to, chatted over and yes, even kissed to.

And now it belonged solely to her and her new guy.

The glittering disco ball (seriously, WHY did prom's always have to have a large, hideously tacky disco balls hanging from the ceiling? Was it some sort of Prom Law, laid down by the Prom God's, many centuries ago?) did little to illuminate the dance floor, littered with slowly swaying couples, but Roxas picked out the upswept blonde hair and knee-length crystal-littered tea dress of his ex-girlfriend Namine within seconds. Even though she was arguably the smallest, slightest, most waifish girl in school, she dominated the dance floor and all attention was drawn to her immediately. All others paled before her in Roxas's eyes, like they always had and always would.

Of course, the fact that her dance partner (and new boyfriend, Roxas's cousin Sora) was lighting up the dance floor with his blissfully glowing grin wasn't helping a bit. Ladling himself another cup of the most-likely-radioactive punch, for something to do, Roxas sat down hard in one of the plastic chairs kindly placed here and there for unfortunate social nobodies, and glared at his relative. He'd never really been overly close to Sora, mostly because their personalities were as different as night and day. Sora was spontaneous, sunny and silly (and invited alliterations when people described him). Roxas was calm, quiet, reserved. Total opposites.

But their mother's were sisters who lived in the same neighborhood, frequented the same places and had the same friends. Consequently, Sora and Roxas had grown up together, going to the same schools all their lives and frequently being mistaken for twins. While this horrified Roxas to no end ('Me? Brothers? With THAT?!') Sora just laughed it off. He laughed everything off. It was almost guaranteed that, had his girlfriend of eight and a half months gently suggested that they start seeing other people, Sora would laugh it off.

Suffice to say, Roxas's reaction hadn't been as good. "Well, I'm seeing other people, Namine." The spiky-haired blond informed the radiant-eyed girl as she swept across the floor, oblivious of his existence and that of everyone else, lost in exhilarated infatuation with a different pair of bright blue eyes. "I'm seeing them dance off towards their happy endings and leave me behind."

Sighing heavily and slumping back in his chair, Roxas took a long sip of punch. It was things like this that made him doubt the existence of true love.

"I wouldn't drink that if I were you."

Startled, Roxas choked on the mouthful of sugar water, coughing in an extremely undignified manner that probably left fluorescent pink stains all over the white tablecloth as well. After several seconds of wheezing for breath, he became aware of a light hand on his shoulder and a glass of blessedly familiar and natural-colored water being handed to him. "Thanks." Roxas managed to croak, doing his best to swallow the proffered beverage and chase away the taste of punch that coated his throat.

"You're welcome." was the slightly sheepish reply, as the speaker slowly sank into a chair next to him, bringing with them a vaguely floral scent. Roxas was regaining his breath, and with it his powers of observation, so, still slowly sipping the water, he turned and examined the person.

He could still remember, in vivid detail, when he'd first seen Namine. Yes, he'd seen her before, for years and years, all throughout kindergarten and grade and middle school, the shy little girl who was always sitting in the corner with the coloring books. But, then, in the first year of high school, he'd glanced up and really _seen_ her, a shy girl who'd blossomed into a gorgeous almost-fifteen-year-old beauty that sent a surge of crackling firework magic right through Roxas. The several months of dancing around their feelings, the confession, the decision to go out, the first kiss – none of it compared to that first JOLT he'd gotten when he met her gloriously blue eyes.

This time, there wasn't any jolt. There wasn't even the slightest trace of crackle. Nothing. The sight of the brunette young woman, sitting next to Roxas with her hair in a simple braid and her green eyes smooth, serene and a tad concerned, didn't send electricity coursing through his veins or prompt him to compare said eyes to semiprecious stones. Her pale pink dress wasn't especially remarkable (aside from being ankle-length and comfortably loose, though the style was short hems and form-fitting silhouettes) and there was nothing especially memorable in the way her diamond earrings glittered in the disco ball light or her lashes brushed her cheeks when she blinked. Her lips, eyes, hands and waist were very nice, but not divine. There was nothing in her gaze, manner or voice that prompted Roxas to prose, wild declarations of affection or a renouncement of all others save her.

But there was still _so__mething_ there.

"I suppose I shouldn't have startled you like that." the young woman said, a little chuckle joining her sweet smile. All right, that was something, her smile was very unguarded and warm, especially when compared to Namine's shyly flirtatious, or Larxene's cold, 'I'm-gonna-kill-you' ones. But still, no buzzing of wild attraction between them as Roxas shrugged and finished the water, then let the young brunette take the empty cup. He had the vague thought that he should be offering HER drinks, then disposing of the glasses, but it passed quickly. "I've just been eyeing that punch all evening, rather fearfully, and I wanted to warn you against it." the green-eyed girl said with another little laugh.

"It's nothing. I mean, thanks." The blond said quickly, offering a half-smile and trying not to appear too obvious as he examined her. It was a fairly small town, and he'd known everyone in his high school since they were in diapers, so a new person was always a bit of a novelty to him. In addition, she wasn't a girl – she was a young woman, several years older than him, old enough to be in college. So, then, what was she doing at a high school prom?

As if reading his mind, the young woman tilted her head to one side, extending her hand towards him. "My name's Aerith." She said sweetly, the smile never leaving her face. Roxas took her hand and shook it gently, simply because it was surprisingly soft and fragile in his grip, delicate almost. But still, even though her skin was like silk against his fingertips, which were roughened by years of fruitless guitar practice, there were no fireworks.

"Roxas." He replied simply, feeling no compulsion to pepper his phrases with the flowery words Axel was so fond of using, the type that had always made Namine giggle and hug his arm tighter as they walked through the downtown park. Feeling that same old pain, Roxas quickly released Aerith's hand and glanced off, at the wall, at the bowl of punch, at his feet, anywhere but the dance floor, where the couples were still dancing to 'today's hits and yesterdays favorites.' "So, who are you here with?" he asked, clearing his throat and trying to appear nonchalant.

The lightness in Aerith's eyes dimmed slightly and she joined him in examining the pink stains. "What makes you think I'm here with anyone?" she asked in a low voice. A brief glance at her showed that her long fingers were twisted in her lap, clutching tightly to a fold of her rose-colored dress. Odd.

With a vague frown, Roxas looked again at her face, finding a trace of pain that was very familiar hiding in her eyes. He didn't address it, of course, but he saw it. "Well, you don't look like a high school student." He said matter-of-factly, his frankness making Aerith glance up in a vague surprise. And, even though being so blunt with any other girl would've made Roxas blush and fumble and generally feel like a fool, he just looked straight at her and, with a shrug, said, "Obviously you're here with someone. Just wondering who."

Aerith blinked at him a couple more times, then, slowly, her lips curled into a smile, not as sunshiny, but still warm. "You're very perceptive." She informed him, nodding once to underscore this statement. And, rather than getting embarrassed and seeing it as flirting – which it would've been from any other girl – Roxas just shrugged again, then offered a crooked grin. Aerith laughed, for real this time, releasing the death grip on her dress. "Well, you're right, I'm not in high school." She said, with only a trace of sheepishness. "I came here because…an old friend of mine asked me to."

Roxas scooted his chair a little closer to her, resting his elbows on his knees, hands folded loosely. He barely even noticed what song was playing, or that Namine and Sora were now in the opposite corner of the gymnasium, gazing at each other over glasses of the unnatural punch. Nothing else seemed to matter at that moment, except…her. And, no, there still weren't any butterflies or anything. He didn't really need them, either.

"I actually graduated last year, from a really small high school about two hundred miles away." Aerith was saying, reaching over to the refreshment table and grabbing a handful of the specially ordered confetti to play with. "I'm taking a year off before starting college up north."

"What're you going to do?" Roxas asked, because that was what you asked when people talked about their college plans. He should know, most of his friends had had their lives planned out since they were twelve. Quite frankly, Roxas was used to – and sick of – people rambling about every single class they were going to take to achieve their unparalleled academic goal, whatever that may be. However, he wasn't expecting the response Aerith gave him.

"I'll get my masters in Botany and find some well-paying job that will sustain me for the rest of my life." The young woman said in a voice that was so plainly flat, apathetic and disinterested, that it gave Roxas a genuine shock. Almost before the words left her mouth, Aerith winced, bringing her hand to her forehead and saying quickly, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for that to sound the way it did."

"Uh...huh…" Roxas said slowly, completely bewildered. Coming from an average, run-of-the-mill family, he'd always been taught that growing up to have a well-paying, sustaining job was the best thing anyone could strive for. But she seemed so…careless about it. Like it didn't really matter.

With a little laugh completely void of all amusement, Aerith sat up straighter and self-consciously straightened her skirt. "I'm sorry." She repeated in a soft voice. "I've just been…saying that for so long…after a while it gets a little tiring." Roxas noted briefly that, even though she was vaguely upset, she never stopped smiling. Only, now, it was a very weary, wry, almost self-mocking half-smile as she shrugged and said with mock lightness, "But then, I guess even the best actors get tired of saying lines they've rehearsed a million times."

"So…that was a line?" Roxas pressed, trying to understand. She'd seemed so simple and plain when he'd first seen her. But now…now she seemed a profound mystery. And Roxas loved mysteries.

Aerith winced slightly, hunching her shoulders sheepishly and dropping the confetti onto her lap, where it stood out in glittering splendor against her skirt. Roxas found himself watching the light from that _stupid_ disco ball dancing off the sparkly little pieces of paper, rather than her face as she said softly, "I keep saying things wrong tonight. It's just…ever since I was little, I've been saying that. I'll be a botanist, I'll get a good education, I'll marry my childhood sweetheart. It's all been planned. I don't even wear my HAIR differently."

Suddenly, abruptly, Aerith reached out and set her hand on Roxas's knee, the confetti spilling over her knees, onto the floor, catching his blue eyes with her pale green ones, an achingly sad smile on her face. "Do you ever get tired of doing everything everyone expects of you?" she asked him softly, almost pleadingly. "Roxas. Do you ever wish…that you could do something…impulsive?"

This wasn't electricity. There were no fireworks, no violent, almost painful feelings. There was no surge of emotions that made Roxas want to dance around and shout to the heavens and act crazy. There was no magical, mysterious, mesmerizing slew of new thoughts and hopes and wishes and dreams, centered around the girl whose hand was on his knee. There was no….JOLT.

But there was something, something in Aerith's touch, in her eyes, her face, her voice, that made Roxas suddenly reach out, grab the hand resting lightly on his leg and hold it as tightly as he could, looking straight into her eyes. "Yes." He said softly, nodding slowly, trying to let her know that he understood. "Yes, I have."

With that, Roxas stood, Aerith's hand in his, and began making his swift and purposeful way to the door. He did it so suddenly, without any sort of warning, weaving around the multi-colored people standing here and there, with such single-minded determination, his grip so firm and strong on the young woman's, that they were halfway down the hall before Aerith was able to react.

"What are you doing?" the brunette managed finally, stumbling along after the teenage boy past rows of purple lockers and darkened classrooms, already getting lost in the maze that was his high school. When Roxas didn't answer, pausing at the intersection of two halls, Aerith took her chance and dug the heels of her strappy pink shoes into the linoleum, refusing to go another step, giving the boy her best patiently expectant look.

Roxas didn't seem to notice this well-tailored look, deciding on one hall with an approving nod and starting to go down it. However, Aerith could be absolutely immovable when she wanted to be, so he was jerked to an abrupt halt. "What is it?" he asked in a vexed voice, turning and giving the young woman an irritated pout.

Aerith felt herself softening at the pout, which was a little too adorably sulky to have its desired affect. Then, to avoid dwelling on the fact that she'd just applied the word 'adorable' to this strange new blond boy, the green-eyed girl cleared her throat and, arching both eyebrows, said mildly, "I'd just like to know what you're doing, if you don't mind."

"To be honest, I don't quite know yet." Roxas said, noticing in that moment that they were still holding hands, and she appeared to have no intention of letting go just yet. And, weirdly, neither did he. "But then, isn't that the nature of impulses?" Aerith's eyebrows quirked just a fraction of an inch higher and he had to smile at the vague hope, mixed with disbelief, that he saw in her eyes. Nodding slowly, Roxas squeezed her hand tighter. "I'm being impulsive, Aerith." He informed her softly.

For a moment a real, true, happily hopeful smile crept across Aerith's face, making her seem half her age, a child again, and her hand tightened on his. "Oh…" she said softly, wanting more than anything to throw her cares to the wind, to surrender to her sudden desires and run right out the door with him. Then her shoulders drooped, as if the weight of the world had fallen back onto them, and she tried to draw her hand away from Roxas's. "But, I shouldn't leave…"

"Why not?" the blond boy asked, not letting her go, grabbing her other hand, hardly knowing where this new side of him was coming from. He could see the surprise he was feeling mirrored in her jade-colored eyes, but it gave him strength, rather than shocking him into releasing her. "What's keeping you here?"

Her eyes flitted back towards the gym, where there was music playing, people laughing, neon punch flowing – and the one person who had brought her back forgetting she even existed. Aerith gnawed on her lower lip, trying to remember (or, perhaps, fight against) every rule about good manners and politeness that had been hammered into her since childhood. She bit down so hard she almost drew blood. Then she swallowed hard and slowly turned her back on what was expected of her. An almost wry half-smile curled the corner of her mouth as she stopped trying to pull away, squeezing his hands as tightly as she could.

"Nothing." She said softly, half-hoping he wouldn't see the tears stinging her eyes, half-praying he could make them go away. Roxas half-smiled back, and together they ran out of the school.

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I won't be mean and make you wait for the next bit, I promise. :D -trots off to upload it-

Read/review/go kidnap someone from a prom.


	2. Chapter 2

Part two:D

**Disclaimer: Yep, still own naught.**

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"What do you call this stuff again?"

Roxas didn't answer for a moment, as the question had been posed right as he'd been gulping half his ice cream down in one bite. He swallowed for a moment, getting the salty-sweet pale blue stuff down, then wincing at the vague brain freeze that followed. "Ow." he muttered, pouting slightly, then shaking it off. "Sea-salt ice cream." He replied matter-of-factly, taking a smaller bite.

His companion wasn't the type to bite ice cream, choosing instead to devour it in small, lady-like licks, pausing every so often to frown over the unusual taste. When Roxas had practically ran up to the small cart along Main Street, then ran back to Aerith brandishing the two blue treats, she'd accepted happily. After all, she enjoyed a nice Popsicle on a warm autumn night, and she'd thought the frozen confection he was offering her was blue raspberry-flavored. Her favorite.

How wrong she'd been.

"Sea-salt." Aerith repeated slowly, examining the steadily melting ice cream with suspicion in her pale green eyes. Roxas nodded happily, taking another bite and appearing not to notice her wary expression. The young woman glanced at the boy, then took another lick. She instantly shuddered, swallowing hard to remove the very peculiar and vaguely unpleasant aftertaste from her mouth. "As in…_salt_ ?" she managed to choke out.

"Mmm-hm!" Roxas confirmed, giving his dessert a fond look. When this particular young blond ate sea-salt ice cream, it became his primary focus, so he hardly noticed how lovely the starlight night was, how bewildered Aerith was by the treat or how a blue trickle of melted ice cream was making it's way towards the silk cuff of his white shirt.

"Ah." Aerith said faintly, holding the confection a safe distance from her pale pink dress. It was disintegrating in earnest now, the warm September air dissolving the ice crystals that held it together, faster than she could (or would) eat it. Denied the pleasure of staining her dress, the blue ooze was now dripping onto the cobblestoned road the pair were walking down, and as Aerith glanced behind her, she saw a trail of sky-blue dots marking their path.

_Almost like Hansel and Gretel._ The girl thought vaguely, then disregarded that idea. She wasn't exactly partial to the idea of shoving a witch into a stove that night, even if it would save Roxas from being eaten. "I wonder who thought that up." Aerith commented, changing the subject from the weird one going on in her head.

"Some genius." Was Roxas's completely unbiased opinion as he skillfully caught the last melting bit of ice cream in his mouth before it found a home on his shiny black shoes. Aerith glanced over at him and had to smile, despite her mistrust of the notion of salted ice cream. Somehow the young blond had managed to get blue smeared all over his face, including his nose. This would've been sloppy on any other guy, but on Roxas…it was almost endearing.

Stifling a smile as the teenager frowned and licked ice cream off his chin, Aerith eyed the ice cream again. Then, for his sake, she took one more lick, trying to forget the fact that it was made with the same stuff she'd put on her scrambled eggs that morning. "Hmm." She commented, running her tongue across her lips and almost enjoying the aftertaste this time. "You know, when you don't think about what it's made out of…it's pretty good."

Roxas gave a superior sniff, as if he'd known all along he'd win her over. "That's why I don't think about it." he said loftily, then stuck the ice cream stick into his mouth, like an over-sized, sea-salt-flavored toothpick. He gnawed on it contentedly, sticking his hands into his pockets.

Aerith found that soft smile was back on her face as she broke off a small piece of the ice cream with her blue-tinted lips and let it melt in her mouth. "You don't really seem to think about a lot of things." She said in a small voice, swallowing and actually liking the way the salty-sweetness flowed down her throat.

If Roxas had been looking at her when she'd said this, he would've seen the warmth and something almost like fondness echoing in the girl's green eyes. But he'd been preoccupied with his stick, and the words landed harshly on his ears, making him stop stock still, in the middle of a pool of light from one of the streetlamp's which lined the street. Aerith gave the boy a puzzled look, then gasped softly when she realized how that must've sounded. "Oh, Roxas, I didn't mean that! I mean, it came out wrong!" she exclaimed in consternation, reaching out as if her touch would remove the tension gathered in his skinny shoulders and ease whatever pain she'd inadvertently caused him.

"It's fine, it's okay." the blond hastened to reassure her, reaching out and catching her wrists in both hands, almost as a protective gesture. It was hard to tell, though, whether he was protecting himself from the melting ice cream she held in one hand – or from whatever effect her touch might've had on him.

Aerith gave him a beseeching look, a large glob of melting sea-salt ice cream falling onto her sleeve unheeded. "I'm really sorry." She said softly, the corners of her mouth turned down for the first time since he'd met her, something that seemed almost a crime. Hers was a face made for smiling. Not for frowning. Never for frowning.

"It's really okay." Roxas said, releasing her wrists and giving the blue splotch a scowl. "Here, lemme fix that." he muttered, digging in his pocket for the handkerchief that Axel said was a crucial accessory for any tuxedo. Aerith glanced at her arm, then colored slightly in embarrassment at her sloppiness, though she couldn't keep a bemused smile off her face as Roxas dabbed at the stain, then tied the white cloth around her wrist, as if she'd been gravely wounded, rather than just ice-cream splotched. "There." the blond said in a satisfied voice. "Good as new."

A gentle laugh escaped Aerith as she examined the handkerchief. "I think I may set a few trends with this." She said, arching both eyebrows at the boy and waving her hand about. He laughed, the tension evaporating as they continued their walk. The ice cream was extremely messy and difficult to eat, but the young woman did her best. She'd almost forgotten about her earlier, seemingly rude statement, when Roxas spoke.

"I'm usually…not this impetuous." His voice was low, and when she glanced over at him, she was distressed to see he was hunching his shoulders again, hands buried in his pockets. "To tell the truth, I'm usually a lot like you." The wry smile on his face was chilling as he glanced up at Aerith and shrugged slightly. "I usually do what people expect of me." he almost spat.

Slowly licking the ice cream, the young woman looked him up and down for a moment, trying to see what would best counteract the bitterness apparent in every line of his face, every step that he took. Finally, she decided on light teasing. "Well, that's what I assumed." She said coolly, glancing off to her left as they rounded a corner and started walking parallel to the bay. Roxas blinked, obviously not expecting this casual calmness, some of the hostility leaving his deep blue eyes. Aerith smiled, slurping down some melting ice cream in a particularly unladylike manner and smiling at him with bright blue lips. "I mean, do you usually go to proms and kidnap other boys' dates?"

Roxas had to laugh at that, taking the stick out of his mouth and tossing it into a garbage can. "No, this is the first time." he said, arching one eyebrow and playing along.

Aerith laughed lightly, licking ice cream off her lips. She honestly wasn't used to this, to teasing and verbally sparring with a boy, especially a boy she hadn't met before that night. She was usually so awkward when it came to the opposite sex. Even speaking to an unfamiliar boy caused her vague discomfort. But, here she was, joking and walking and eating ice cream with a very enigmatic blond high school boy.

What's more, she was _enjoying_ it.

"Ah. I see." the young brunette said gravely, nodding once or twice. Her wise act was thoroughly ruined, though, as she had to quickly duck her head and gulp down some ice cream before it dribbled on her foot. Roxas watched her, vaguely amused that she was making the treat last so long. "Why the sudden change?" Aerith inquired, having to mumble around the half-eaten blue bar in her mouth.

Pursing his lips thoughtfully, Roxas considered this for a moment, watching her try and eat the salty-sweet dessert as fast as she could. It was a race, between her and the warm night that was intent on melting the ice cream. He was rooting for her. After all, he only had one handkerchief. "I think I'm gonna go with spontaneous, inexplicable demon possession." The blond answered finally, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Aerith laughed again, but it came out as more of a snort, around the ice cream. "Oh. Well, I guess that works." She said, grinning at him. Roxas tilted his head to one side, watching her. She was slightly hunched over, trying feverishly to eat all the ice cream, even as it melted all over her hand and the ground and her face. Her hair was falling out of it's neat braid and she had that big white handkerchief around one wrist. He noticed she'd lost one of her diamond earrings sometime during the walk, maybe when they'd sped (flown, more like) across the schoolyard, away from the prom and their peers. She was thoroughly undignified, messy and sticky and grinning like a loon, green eyes dancing.

So why couldn't he keep his eyes off her?

"What is it?" Aerith asked after a moment, frowning slightly, the ice cream melting right off its stick and landing in between her feet as she stopped, puzzled by his silence. Roxas stopped too, and for a moment they just looked at each other, bathed in moon and lamp light, listening to the sound of the waves, crashing against the sand only a few hundred feet to their right, the ice cream, the prom, their friends and family and the whole crazy world forgotten, completely forgotten as they watched – GAZED AT – each other.

Finally Roxas spoke. "Your teeth are blue." He informed her in a very soft voice. And, for some reason, that brought a faint blush to her porcelain-smooth face, and, with a nervous giggle, she smiled hesitantly. He smiled back, then glanced over her shoulder, at the dark, churning, endless bay. "Hey, Aerith?" he said.

"Hmm?" she replied, starting to absently lick at the ice cream that was no longer there, her eyes softening as they lingered on his face, his eyes, his nose, his lips –

Roxas suddenly grabbed her hand again, startling her, making her drop the ice cream stick as he almost danced around her, towards the bay, pulling her after him, that same almost-wild, giddy, excited smile on his face as she followed his gaze towards the dock that stretched out in front of them, and gasped. "Feel like being impulsive, one more time?" he asked breathlessly.

And her answer was to smile radiantly, grip his hand tighter, and match his step as they ran towards, then across, their feet pounding on the wooden planks, their hearts pounding in their chests, then, clutching to each other as hard as they could, sure that nobody in the entire world had ever felt this free, this alive, this HAPPY –

_**off**_ the dock.

--

"Are you cold?"

Aerith smiled softly at the anxiety in Roxas's voice, hugging the silk-lined, cotton-poly blend black jacket tighter around herself and pretending not to notice that the sleeves were a few inches too short. "No, I'm just fine, thanks for asking." She said smoothly, feeling insanely grateful that she'd worn her waterproof mascara today. It was bad enough that her little jump into the bay had reduced her carefully curled bangs to a stringy mess. She didn't think she could've handled being a raccoon too.

A touch of worry left the young man's bright blue eyes, but he kept them fixed on her as they made their way back through town, trying to distinguish the difference between blue stains left from the ice cream and the blue lips that signaled pneumonia. So far Aerith didn't seem too close to freezing to death, but things changed quickly. Roxas planned to stay on his guard until she was safely back at the gym.

The gym… Frowning slightly and sticking his hands deeper into his rather damp pockets, Roxas glanced up the hill to the school that stood, glittering and welcoming, strains of music already drifting down to where they walked. It was only 11:47 (or it had been when his unwaterproofed watch had been submerged in the bay), and the prom was still in session. It would be sickeningly easy to slip in, dry off a little in the hall, then return to wallflowering as if nothing had happened. In fact, it was probable that nobody would ever know about their little swim.

And yet…Roxas didn't feel like he wanted to hide it. He wanted to walk in there with the beautiful, dripping girl next to him, and let the whole world know that they'd run off together, let them wonder and whisper, feel secure and aloof with her hand in his, even though he still couldn't bring himself to grab it now. More than anything, Roxas didn't want this to be just a bad case of too much punch, or being blinded by the moonlight.

He wanted it to be _real_.

"Oh, there's my date."

And it wasn't. Almost reluctantly, Roxas followed the path of Aerith's green eyes across the parking lot, to where a group of the schools resident senior cool guys stood congregated around a red sports car that probably cost more than the average house. Roxas couldn't tell whether the young brunette was looking at the brooding blond, or the careless dark-haired boy, or even the one with the peculiarly colored hair. It didn't really matter, though. All that mattered was that she belonged to one of them. Not to him.

Roxas could almost taste the self-pity and gloominess, building at the back of his throat, as he contemplated another two or three hours of sitting in the corner by the punch bowl, waiting for Axel and Larxene to get bored and leave, trying to snag a ride home with another friend if they forgot he existed, possibly forced to walk home under the stars, which was far less pleasant if you were doing it alone – then Aerith turned around, slowly slipping the jacket off her shoulders, then reaching out and grabbing his hand.

"I really enjoyed myself tonight." She said in that soft, beautifully musical voice of hers, lily-colored fingertips feeling like fire and snow on his skin. And suddenly the chill wind that had been slowly turning the bay water in his hair to ice felt a lot warmer, like he was standing in an oven, like his collar was too tight and his face was on fire and inside he felt a million different things, all of them culminating in this weird nausea/elation that made him want to be sick and pull away and never, never, never let go and then he looked into her eyes.

Aerith half-smiled, that same weary sadness creeping back into the jade-colored depths of those eyes, but mixing with this blissful happiness that came out in her tone and the way she held his hand, like she also never wanted to let go, as she whispered, "Thank-you, Roxas."

In that moment, Roxas felt brave enough, strong enough, good enough to do a million different things to change the way this night would end. He could grab her other hand and run off once again, he could spout soft, soothing words that would banish the melancholy from her eyes, he could grab her, hold her, kiss her the way he desperately_desperately _wanted to –

Or he could just let her _go._

"You're welcome, Aerith." The blond boy said in a soft voice, squeezing her impossible soft hand once, savoring the beautiful feeling it gave him, then releasing it. Confusion flickered in her eyes as she glanced from him to her hand to the group of teenage boys that still hadn't noticed them, before finally, reluctantly nodding, signaling she understood, and breaking eye contact with him. Roxas knew he was doing the right thing, knew that it was better this way, knew that nothing he could do or say would make him be enough for her. But that didn't stop this from hurting like hell.

"Well." Aerith said, eyes downcast, examining her feet as if that would keep him from seeing the sweetly bewildered agony lingering just underneath her silky eyelashes, hugging herself tightly, his jacket forgotten in her grip. "Then this is goodbye." Roxas didn't say anything and, after a moment, the young woman swallowed hard, then turned to go. Roxas closed his eyes tightly, unable to watch her pivot on her heel, feeling the very edge of her long milk-chocolate braid skim his cheek –

Suddenly, as if through some power of its own, his hand shot out, grabbing her shoulder almost roughly, halting her midturn. Aerith flinched slightly at his touch, turning and giving Roxas a half-accusational, half-weary gaze, as if asking why he was prolonging this torment. In answer, the blond boy took a deep breath, then reached up towards her hair, grasping the very end of it in one slightly trembling hand. "Just, wait." He commanded with more authority than he'd ever felt.

And she waited. She closed her eyes and held her breath as he fumbled with her ribbon, untying it and dropping it to the gravel parking lot beneath their feet, then quickly unbraided her hair. Roxas was feeling light-headed from the silky strands sliding through his fingers, and the mixed smells of the salty bay and her rose-petal shampoo that lingered about the smooth, cinnamon-caramel tresses. He ran his hands through it a couple more times, then stepped back.

Aerith swallowed hard, then opened her eyes, giving him an unreadable look, awaiting his next words. Unbraided, her hair flowed over her shoulders and into her face, damp from the bay, wavy from the humidity, glowing with starlight. Roxas took a deep breath, then, trying to recapture the casualness that had been between them before, glanced up at her. "Wear it out sometimes." He said softly, forcing himself to not add 'for me' to this request.

The young woman took a deep breath as well and whispered, "I will."

Silence reigned for a moment, neither wanting to break the contact between sapphire and emerald, neither wanting this to end. But, as all things were apt to do, it did. Aerith glanced away first, hugging herself tightly. "Bye." She said softly, turning once more, her hair following like a flower-scented curtain.

Roxas closed his eyes, savored her scent and the lingering sensation of her hair twining through his fingers, and the sight of her, blue-lipped and bright-eyed, grabbing his hand and running out of the school, into the bay and the sound of her footsteps, crunching across the parking lot towards her expected life, leaving him to return to his.

"Bye." He whispered back, knowing that THIS was electricity. THIS was a jolt.

It wasn't until he was halfway inside that he realized she'd taken his jacket.

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Guh. Call me crazy, but I think unbraiding a girls hair is ten times more romantic than just snogging her. I wish someone would do it for me. -forgets her hair's too short to braid-

Hope you all enjoyed it and that it was worth waiting for. :D

Read/review/go jump in the bay.


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